Glitter Woes
by Ayns and Sky
Summary: Ayns: For Schadenfreude62: The three most dangerous words in the world: I'll do it.


**Author's Note: **

**Hello, everyone! Ayns here… coming at you 100% solo. Yes, yes, I know, le gasp! I'm never solo, that's usually Sky! **

**Well, I'm here for two reasons. First, to give you this little tidbit that I came up with in a drug-induced haze (Benadryl is my friend). It's extremely late in coming, but this one-shot is the winning prize for Schadenfreude62, one of the winners of our review contest that Sky and I had awhile back. The only stipulation was that Elvis be included somewhere within the story – so I hope this satisfies your request!**

**The other reason that I'm posting this now, and not closer to Halloween, is because I wanted to inform all of you as to why Sky and I haven't updated ****No Matter What**** in quite awhile. It's not that we've abandoned the story – ye gads, no! No, no, the truth of the matter is, Sky's out of town and wandering around with minimal internet at the moment. She's in the process of getting something more steady, and we're hoping to have another chapter out by Sunday – but please don't quote me on that, and if we're late on it, I beg of you not to subject us to the rotten vegetables. **

**And now, because it's 12:34 A.M. and I'm started to see dancing bushes on my monitor, I'm going to close the Author's Notes and let you get on to the story. As usual, reviews are enjoyed – and if the last half of this feels off-key from the first, well… I blame the dancing bushes. **

*********

**Glitter Woes  
by: Ayns**

*****

"She can't be serious."

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at himself in stunned disbelief. Horror seeped through his body, filling every inch of himself with dread. His mouth was dry.

How had he gotten himself into this? Had the words "I'll do it" actually left his mouth? Or had that just been a nightmarish hallucination? He was definitely leaning towards the latter, because the only thing he could think of as he stared at his reflection was '_This is a nightmare. This has to be a nightmare. It's a nightmare._'

He picked the green cap up off his head and shoved his hand through his hair. At least they hadn't made him dye it. No force on this planet was going to make him give up his blonde locks, especially not for one night. And it _was_ only going to be for one night. He wasn't going off to any parties after this – or before, for that matter. No parties. In fact, all he _really_ needed to do was put in an appearance, and then maybe he'd get the chance to run back to the house and remove the offensive garments.

He was going to need a shower.

He _hated showers._

With a scowl he shoved the cap back onto his head and turned away from the mirror. If he looked into it any longer he was going to make himself sick. Better not to think about what he looked like. Just…seriously. Better not to think.

A whimper came from the open door, and he paused, looking at the new arrival.

His mouth twitched unwillingly into a smile. "Oh, man," he said. "They get you, too, Elvis?"

The large Great Dane whimpered again and pawed at the ground, sending off the tinkling of several tiny little bells that had been affixed around his paw. He sat his rump down on the floor and cocked his back leg, scratching at the covering he wore and sending showers of glitter all over the carpet. A cloud of it went up to his nose, causing him to sneeze.

"You think that's bad? At least Daphne didn't dress you up in _tights._"

Elvis lowered his head, shame written all over his features. When he stood up again, the delicate cloth wings strapped onto his back fluttered, sending another shower of glitter to the floor.

"Okay, okay. Wings are just as bad as tights, don't give me that look."

The sound of a doorbell suddenly made both boy and dog tense. He strained his ears, listening to the door open and then the dreaded words come about. "_Trick or treat!_"

"Oh, god," he groaned. "It's started." Just what he needed. Soon hoards of the little munchkins were going to be crawling the streets, each of them intent on obtaining their own stash of candy for the night, screaming at the scary houses and checking out the costumes of those passing by. And there was bound to be more than one person he'd recognize, and who would recognize him.

"_Puck!_" came the voice he had been dreading to hear for the last hour. "_Get down here!_"

He closed his eyes, then opened one of them and peered at Elvis. "Think we might be able to make an escape through the roof?"

Elvis tilted his head to one side, as though he were seriously considering the offer. Then he gave another glitter-induced sneeze.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I didn't think so, either."

"_PUCK!_"

With sluggish feet and a low groan, he dragged himself up and to the door. Every step he took felt as if he had a ball and chain attached at the ankle, and oh how he wanted there to be. Anything to keep him from having to descend those damnable stairs and into the worst purgatory he was ever going to experience.

All too soon he found himself on the bottom step, as another bunch of trick-or-treaters arrived at the door to receive their candy. Trick or treat, what a joke. This was supposed to be the best night for the Trickster King, a night full of tricks to play on both young and old.

Instead, he _was_ the trick.

"Wow, Puck, you look great!" the way-too-enthusiastic Daphne exclaimed as she rushed over. He braced himself for a tackle hug, but instead Daphne knelt down and stroked Elvis' head. "And you look adorable, Elvis!"

"Adorable," Puck muttered in disbelief. Elvis did not look adorable at the moment. Elvis looked like he wanted to cry dog-tears. He sneezed again, right on Daphne's princess dress, but that didn't dissuade her from giving the dog a huge hug and getting glitter on the fabric. Not that it wasn't glittery enough all ready.

"Funny, that's exactly what I was about to say."

He tensed at the smug tone, and turned warily towards the kitchen to look at Sabrina. She stood there, dressed in a blue floor-length nightgown and a ribbon in her hair, her hands on her hips and a grin on her face.

She ignored the horrified look on Puck's face as she looked at Daphne. "Ready to go?" she asked. "After all, if we wait too long all the really good candy might get handed out already."

Daphne's eyes went wide, and she scrambled to her feet, rushing to get her candy bag. Puck glowered at Sabrina. "I can't believe you're making me do this," he said.

"Oh, come on, it's just one night," Sabrina said with a roll of her eyes. "And remember – you agreed."

"Temporary insanity, I assure you." He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. "When this is over, I'm _burning_ this. I can't believe you're making me wear tights. Do you know how much these things chafe? And this _hat!_ I'm going to have hat hair after this, I hope you're happy. Not to mention these shoes are completely impractical, and I look like I'm wearing a friggin skirt with how long this tunic is. And then there's the fact that I _look like a complete mental case!_"

Sabrina gave another roll of her eyes. "Quit being a baby," she said. She turned towards where Daphne was standing impatiently by the door, bouncing on her toes and looking like she'd already consumed an entire bag of Halloween candy.

Puck trailed behind with Elvis, still grumbling under his breath. "Maybe nobody will recognize me," he muttered. "Maybe there'll be a freak rainstorm and it'll get cancelled. Maybe the ground will open up and swallow me." He reached for the front door and pulled it open. "Maybe…"

"…Puck?"

Puck froze, and then slowly looked up. Jake, Briar, Henry, and Veronica were all standing on the porch. They'd been at an early Halloween party…and they hadn't been expected back until later. None of them had seen his costume yet. None of them had known what his costume was – and he'd intended to keep it that way.

He watched as Jake's surprised expression spread into a slow grin, while Briar and Sabrina's parents tried to hide their amusement.

"Or maybe I should say… Peter?"

"… I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

As Puck proceeded to draw his wooden sword and chase Jake off the porch, nearly bowling over the next group of kids while Sabrina and Daphne tried not to fall over laughing, Elvis laid down and placed his head on his paws. He didn't know what Puck was so upset about.

After all, they hadn't made _him_ dress up as Tinkerbell.

~ _Fin_


End file.
